The Forgotten Shadows
by KB103
Summary: Very A/U. Reporter Arizona Robbins is dealing with her brother's death when she is unexpectedly sent on an adventure. Along the way, she crosses paths with Callie Torres and is thrown for a loop.
1. Some Origins of Fire

Title: The Forgotten Shadows  
>Author: KB103<br>Pairing: Callie/Arizona  
>Rating: T<br>Summary: Very A/U. Reporter Arizona Robbins is dealing with her brother's death when she is unexpectedly sent on an adventure. Along the way, she crosses paths with Callie Torres and is thrown for a loop.  
>Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's, that distinction is reserved for Shonda. No copyright infringement is intended by this story, just lots of smiles and giggles.<p>

A/N: Yeah so I know I have other fics, but I haven't been able to get this out of my head, so I went with it. And now that I have, I'm already thinking about my other ones. This fic is really different from anything else I've ever written. I want to remind everyone that this is super a/u. I wanted to keep Callie connected to bones, and the chosen occupation seemed like the only way to do it. Anyway…enjoy. If you're confused….good :P

Happy Reading,

~KB~

p.s. italics are flashbacks

* * *

><p><em>17 July, 1918<em>

_Snow covered the path in front of the gloomy processional. The former Czar, Nicholas II, sat in a cramped cattle car with his family. He cradled his hemophilia ridden son, gazing into his wife's stone blue eyes, a rarity for someone of her heritage. He could see the resignation swirling in the blue depths. Grabbing her hand, he said a silent prayer to the God he'd clung to so desperately these past years._

_Just over a year ago, he'd given up his throne, abdicating, and sacrificing his family's claim. His late father Alexander III would have been so ashamed. Nicholas knew he'd failed his country, his dynasty, and his family. He felt the guilt and the sadness deep within his own soul. His country ravaged by these barbarians, he was forced to sit idly and could only watch the destruction and devastation run rampant across the countryside._

_Now, sitting in the cattle car, he was acutely aware of the fragility of his own situation. He had lived plenty. He had seen the world and experienced love; it was his family about whom he worried. Alexei was barely twelve; he had experienced nothing. It seemed so unfair that their life was bound to be taken. His country was in the middle of a civil war; the blood soaking the countryside. He could see the fear in his family's eyes, and it only served to heighten his own as he knew there was nothing he could do._

_He used to be the czar of a great nation, and now he was helpless._

_The cattle car stopped suddenly, and the men wrenched open the doors. The blinding light streamed into the car, causing everyone to cringe. It was at that point Nicholas realized exactly how long it had been since he'd seen the sun. They'd been moved to Yeketrinburg a few months ago and put on rations. He knew that most people were living without butter and coffee, but he had never gone without luxury. He'd been born a prince, the heir to the throne of Russian, and now, he was afraid he would die a peasant._

_Holding onto Alexei, Nicholas felt a guard begin to pull on his arm in an effort to force him out of the car. Stumbling out of the back, he clutched his ailing son close to him. The guards funneled them into the House of Special Purpose, the building that had been their home for the past few months. Their ride out in the snow was supposedly a "reprieve" from their otherwise unbearable lives. He could hear the guards murmuring about the enemy closing in and pushing them towards the basement._

_Smelling the vodka on their clothes, Nicholas cringed. They were drunk. With the flick of a lighter, the red butt of a cigarette provided the only light in the dim room. "We want to take a picture of you," Yurovsky, the head guard ordered. "Arrange yourselves."_

_"But there are no chairs!" the tsarina, Alexandra, complained._

_"Do it," Yurovsky slurred, before leaving with the other guards._

_The family arranged themselves and waited for what seemed like hours for the men to return. Finally, Yurovsky thumped down the stairs to the cold, cement room. He held something behind his back. Nicholas thought it was a camera, but as he pulled it out, the former tsar became quite confused. Yurovsky held a piece of paper. "Nicholas and Alexandra Romanov," he read aloud, "by the order of Vladimir Lenin, you have been sentenced to death."_

_At his words, the other guards emerged with their weapons brandished. Nicholas looked between the men, a look of horror on his face. "What?"_

_Yurovsky smirked. "Da," he said as he ordered for the guards to shoot._

_The fallen ruler's eyes widened in shock. The last thing he saw was the barrel of Yurovsky's gun. _

* * *

><p>Gunshots fired through the air, signaling the beginning of the twenty-one gun salute. Arizona bowed her head and clutched her father's hand. She could hear her mother blubbering on his other side, and she swallowed the emerging lump in her throat. She glanced at the flag covered coffin, fighting the tears as she did so. She had to turn away as they lowered her brother Timothy into the ground.<p>

She still couldn't believe he was dead.

The day she'd gotten the phone call had been the worst of her life. She'd just gotten off work and was heading home. Her phone rang and after that it all became fuzzy. She remembered speaking with her father and hearing him tell her that Tim was dead, but that was it. The nausea had been overwhelming, much in the same way it was now.

It wasn't fair. This whole thing just wasn't fair. Tim had died without warning, without a voice. She knew that was the curse of being in the military, but that didn't take the sting away at all. There were no details on his death, other than the obvious: he died. She wasn't allowed to see his body, which wasn't uncommon for explosions, but that wasn't what she was told happened. In fact, she really hadn't been told anything. If it was an explosion, that was easy enough to tell the family, but the fact that no one was saying anything made her incredibly nervous.

Her training as a journalist taught her to be skeptical, and this was no exception. Every alarm in her body was going off, but she didn't know if that was something she should follow, for the sake of her career. Her curiosity had already gotten the best of her, and she did a little digging after she found out about Timothy's death initially.

The results had not been encouraging.

But as much as she wanted to investigate, using the full extent of her journalistic experience and training, she couldn't put herself or her family through that. It was bad enough to have him die so suddenly, but Arizona wanted to allow him to rest, not prolong his pain (and her own for that matter) for the sake of knowing. She knew he was killed while serving in Iraq, and for now that would have to be enough.

With a squeeze of her father's hand, she turned away, and headed towards her car. She'd felt a buzz in her pocket, so it was probably her boss, Miranda, demanding she report on some breaking news story somewhere. "Miranda," Arizona breathed, somewhat angrily, "please tell me there's a good reason for this. You know I have the day off."

"There's a Capt. Alex Karev here, asking to see you. He won't speak to anyone but you. He says it's about your brother."

"I'm on my way," the blonde answered, hustling into her car. She'd apologize to her father later. He would probably be thankful that his daughter didn't see him so vulnerable. Daniel Robbins was a retired marine colonel and certified badass. He raised his children to be strong and stoic like him, never allowing them to see a chink in his armor. Arizona could tell he was on the brink of losing it during the funeral ceremony, and was trying to hold it together for her sake. Her leaving at least gave him the opportunity to grieve without the need to feel strong for his remaining child.

Arizona felt that pain too, and had been feeling it since they were notified of Tim's death a week ago. She and Tim had been close growing up since they were so close in age (Arizona was only twenty months older). He was the first person she came out to, and he was incredibly supportive. They would discuss girls together all through high school and college, and generally just got along incredibly well. They were two peas in a pod, only separated when absolutely necessary.

She had originally been angry with him when he told her he was going to attend the Naval Academy for college. He was her brother, her best friend, so she was highly protective of him. In the end, however, she knew that no matter her protests, being in the Navy and serving their country was something in her family's blood. The Robbins family was proud of their contributions to protecting the freedom of Americans. Supporting the members of her family who made that sacrifice was of the utmost importance, so that's what she did.

She didn't know if Timothy would have wanted her to investigate his death. Hell, she didn't want to. She really just wanted to curl into a ball with a blanket on the couch, eat some doughnuts, and cry her eyes out over the loss of her baby brother. But whether she liked it or not, Capt. Alex Karev was waiting in her office with information she apparently would want to hear.

* * *

><p>"How's work?" Addison Montgomery asked her friend as she sipped on her smoothie.<p>

The brunette shook her head. "A little odd to be honest."

"What's going on?" Addison inquired, more than a little worried. She and Callie had been friends for ages. They'd met in college at American University in Washington, D.C.. Addison was just about to graduate, and Callie had just entered. Despite their age difference they'd managed to form a close bond that didn't disintegrate when Addison went on to medical school at Columbia. Even when Callie ended up at Northwestern for her graduate study, they managed to stay close. Now they were both in New York, however, which meant oodles of fun. That is, when Callie wasn't working too hard. "I think you need a vacation."

Callie shrugged. "I would love a vacation, but unfortunately I can't. I've been saddled with this case and it's all kinds of weird."

"I thought you said you were done with the cop stuff," Addison chided.

"I was," the Latina agreed, "but this case was a little freaky."

"I liked it better when you were safe behind your podium."

Callie chuckled. "Me too, Addie, but I've always been one for a little adventure." Callie had received her Ph.D. in physical anthropology from Northwestern University. She'd spent the beginning of her professional life solely in academia, but she'd really pioneered the use of her academic field in realistic situations, such as working with the authorities on occasion, something that always made Addison nervous. "Besides, this case doesn't have any bearing on the here and now. I'm just supposed to identify this body they found a little over a week ago."

"OK, so what's so weird about it? Did you get any hits on the DNA?"

The brunette nodded and lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. "That's the weird part. I got the results a couple of days ago and it just didn't make sense."

Addison leaned forward, now completely intrigued. "Why not?"

"Well, there were two separate hits, one on our city database and another on the database that holds information on the different known spies and bad guys."

"You have access to that?" the redhead asked, completely surprised at that bit of information.

"That's not the point," Callie retorted. "The problem is that the woman lying in my morgue has a familial match in the now dissolved KGB."

"Russian bad guys?" Addison exclaimed.

The Latina nodded. "Russian bad guys," she confirmed. "What's even more weird is who the guy actually is. His name is Feodor Vladimirovich Petrovsky."

"And?"

"He defected in the 1970s during the Cold War before he died.. That name was an alias. His true name was Roman Petrovich Romanov."

"Oh," Addison replied, nodding her head as if she understood.

Callie rolled her eyes. "The Romanovs were the royal family of Russia."

"Oh!" the redhead declared, finally understanding. "Ok. So the person on your table is related to that Romanov dude?"

"Yeah," Callie answered. "The whole thing is weird. I just need to look over the report in detail, so I can figure out who this woman is specifically."

"OK, well I need to get back to the hospital."

"Ok," Callie said, standing up to hug her friend. "I'll call you later."

"You better," the redhead responded, playfully glaring at her friend.

Callie waved and began the short walk back to her office at Columbia. She always found it to be ironic that she now taught anthropology at the school where Addison earned her medical degree. As she traversed the short distance, she felt an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something wasn't right and she prayed it had nothing to do with this case. She'd told Sloan and Avery that she was done doing random cop work after she was dragged into something involving a very violent drug cartel from Mexico last year, but they'd practically begged her to identify this woman. It was supposed to be simple and easy and then she could return to her teaching work, but that was becoming less and less the case with each day.

She shuddered as she entered the hallway where her office was located. It was dim and seemed cold, even though it was the middle of summer. Moving down the hall, she clutched her briefcase close. She saw her door had been opened, and immediately her stomach dropped. She slid through the opening to survey her space, and gasped. It had been turned upside down; papers were strewn everywhere. It was quite obvious that someone had broken in and searched the place. She could guess who, but she hoped she was wrong.

Fucking Russian bad guys.

Shit.

* * *

><p>AN2: Ok, so there's going to be a bit of history in this fic. It's not 100% accurate, but at the end, I'll post everything detailing what was fact and what I made up. Anyway...I hope you enjoyed it. :)


	2. Art of Motion

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who read and/or reviewed. It means a lot to me :) On to chapter two.

Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

><p>Chapter 2: Art of Motion<p>

Arizona rushed from the elevator back to her office, probably stirring up a whirlwind of papers in her wake. She passed by Miranda's office as she made her way to her own, hoping she could slip by unnoticed by the shorter woman.

"Robbins!" Miranda called from behind her desk.

The blonde heaved an exasperated sigh. She enjoyed working for Bailey, but right now she was just emotionally spent, and she still had to talk to this Capt. Karev person. Attempting to pull herself together, she ducked into her boss's office. "Yes, Miranda?"

The short woman stood. "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry about your brother, and that you have to be in today."

Arizona offered her boss a pained smile. "Thank you, Miranda."

The other woman nodded. "Capt. Karev is seated just outside your office."

Arizona returned Bailey's nod and exited the office. Continuing towards her own, she found a man adorned in a military uniform sitting quietly in a chair right outside her door. "Capt?" She questioned.

He stood and formally held out his hand for her to shake. "Yes ma'am, but please call me Alex."

"Ok Alex," she replied, opening up the door, "please come in." She led him into the spacious room and took a seat behind her desk. She loved the view of her office from behind the dark wooden surface. She'd taken a lot of time to spruce it up and make it nice. She had worked hard to get where she was, and she wanted her office to reflect that. "So," she smiled, "what can I help you with?"

"Tim wanted you to have this," he replied, pulling a small, leather bound book out from his pocket.

A wave of emotion unexpectedly hit her full force. She bit her lip to try and keep the swirling emotions at bay, but her eyes welled anyway. "What is it?" she managed to ask.

Alex sighed. "It's his journal." He stepped towards the desk, and set down the book. "Listen," he said, lowering his voice, "something isn't right. When Tim went into Baghdad, he handed me this book and ordered that I not lose it. The next day, it was reported that he was dead."

The blonde clenched her jaw. "A roadside bomb?" she questioned

Alex shook his head. "That's the thing, there were no bombs reported that day and no skirmishes in Baghdad. Nothing happened…literally nothing."

"Is that why everyone has been so quiet?" She inquired, referencing the lack of information surrounding her brother's death.

Karev nodded. "They're suspecting friendly fire and are holding the three men who were accompanying Tim at the time."

Arizona grabbed a pen and the pad of paper she always kept at her desk. "What are their names?"

"Lt. Altman, Lt. Hunt, and Corp. O'Malley."

After scribbling down the information, she looked back at him. "Are they here in the states?"

"No," Alex replied, "they're being held at a detention facility in Zurich, at your brother's former base."

"Ok," Arizona nodded. "Thank you for coming to see me."

Alex shrugged. "It's what Tim would have wanted."

The blonde tilted her head and gave him a small smile. "But still…thanks."

Arizona moved from behind her desk to open the door and show the military officer out. As her hand touched the doorknob, a raucous noise erupted from behind the barrier. Brandishing his gun, Alex shoved Arizona behind him, shielding her from the potential danger. "Arizona Robbins!" A strangled voice shouted with an unmistakable Russian accent. "We know you are here."

"Hide," Alex whispered as he squatted.

Arizona could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She'd never been more terrified in her entire life. She had no idea what was going on, only that it was apparently very dangerous. Grabbing the journal from the desk, she made a beeline for the window. "Thank God for fire escapes," she whispered.

She lifted the glass surface and quickly kicked out the screen. Just as she managed to scoot out the opening she heard the door slam against the wall, obviously having been forced open. Willing herself not to look back, she began to make her way down the metal stairs, cringing at each ring of gunfire. She heard something crash into the metal, and stopped, completely startled by the noise. She looked up, her ocean blue eyes connecting with stone grey ones. "Oh shit," she murmured as she watched him take aim with his gun.

She broke into a sprint, or at least as close to one as was possible, down the winding stairs. She could hear the bullets clanging around her, willing herself to keep moving and not worry about the ever growing possibility of her death. Once her feet hit the asphalt, she took off down the alley towards the main thoroughfare. Arizona frantically waved her hand in the air, attempting to wave down a taxi. She heaved a sigh of relief once a car pulled over to the side. Hopping into the car, she collapsed against the scratchy leather and closed her eyes. "JFK, please."

* * *

><p>"Mark, you better tell me what the hell is going on!" Callie barked from her seat in front of the senior detective's desk. "I just want to go home."<p>

"You can't go home, Torres," Mark answered. "I've told you that already."

"So what am I supposed to do?" the Latina fired back. "Go on vacation?"

Mark turned around, surprised at the suggestion. "That is a GREAT idea."

Callie rolled her eyes and frowned. "I wasn't being serious. I have work to do."

"Not with bad guys breaking into your office you don't," the detective replied.

"That still doesn't answer why I can't go home," the brunette huffed.

Mark squatted so he could look her in the eyes. "For having a Ph.D, you are seriously stupid sometimes." He flinched as a strong hand beat him upside the head. "Watch it," he said, his eyes softening as he became serious. "Look Callie, if these guys broke into your office, they obviously know who you are. How many Calliope Torreses live in New York? They found your apartment too."

"They trashed her apartment," Avery declared as he threw open the door.

"I told you so," Mark whispered, getting up from his squatted position. "What'd you find?" He asked his partner.

Avery sat on the desk, and picked up an apple sitting on the surface. "Place is totally trashed," he said, biting into the apple.

"How's that apple?" Mark asked with a smirk.

"Awful."

"Yeah it's been there for weeks."

"Thanks for letting me know."

"Well it's not like you gave me a ch…"

"I hate to break up your little bromance," Callie interjected, "But does anyone care to tell me what is going on?"

"You're going on vacation," Mark concluded.

"Vacation? Who said anything about a vacation?" Avery asked.

"I WAS KIDDING!"

"Look, Torres," Mark shouted. "I get that you were kidding about vacation, but we've been working together for awhile. Some very bad people, probably Russians, are coming after you. You're my wingman."

"Wingperson," the Latina corrected.

"Wingperson," Mark agreed. "The point is, that something is going on here, and it's scary and Russian, and I like you alive. We could be awesome friends. We had awesome sex that one time."

Avery coughed. "You guys had sex?"

"I was drunk," Callie conceded.

"The point is that you cannot be in this city right now."

"I agree," Police Chief Webber said as he opened the door. "Sloan, Avery," he greeted the two detectives. "Dr. Torres."

"Callie," the brunette answered.

"Dr. Torres," the chief reiterated, "I think it would be wise for you to leave town for awhile."

"And go where? Africa?"

Chief Webber pretended to mull it over for awhile. "Europe actually. We've arranged to have the bones shipped to a lab in Zurich, where you'll be able to identify the body, hopefully in undisturbed peace, while we attempt to figure out who it is that keeps going through your stuff."

Callie looked at him wide eyed. "You're shipping me off to Europe?"

"I have no choice," the chief replied. "I don't want you dead, Torres. You're too big of an asset."

"So you're sending me to Europe….by myself when it's highly likely that Russian bad guys are chasing after me?"

"Of course not," Richard scoffed. "Sloan and Avery are coming with you."

Avery smirked from his spot on the desk and Mark gave him a high five. "Sweet."

"We're going to Zurich!"

"I have no clothing," Callie deadpanned. "Can I go home to get clothes?"

Webber shook his head. "Absolutely not."

"Awesome," Callie huffed. She was going to Europe with Beavus and Butthead over there, and she couldn't even enjoy it. She'd be spending the whole time probably dodging around corners being frightened that every person who looked remotely Russian would be striving to secure her head on a platter. She felt a little bit safer knowing that Mark and Jackson would be coming with her, but there was still a feeling of dread deep within her gut.

She followed Mark and Jackson out of the police station and down to the waiting taxi. Squished between the two men, she closed her eyes and hoped this could all end soon. She just wanted to do her job, and not worry about ridiculous things like angry Russians. It was like an out of body experience. She always understood why Addison worried about her; working with cops could be dangerous, but until now, Callie had never felt like she was in any imminent danger.

She had worked with Mark for the first time by happenstance, when someone hid a skeleton of bones in her vault of unknown identities. She'd been pulled into the investigation by identifying the random bones and an "essential part of the crime fighting team" as Webber phrased it. From that moment she would periodically be pulled onto cases, forming a decent relationship with Mark over the course of their time working together. It'd largely been a platonic relationship, but they also enjoyed a short lived tryst. It meant nothing, but it was still fodder for good humor.

Mark had been there for her over the years. When she'd been figuring out her sexuality, Mark had been her sounding board. He helped her figure out what she felt towards her coworker, Erica Hahn. Erica was a professor at the Columbia University Medical Center. Callie had guest lectured on using physical anthropology in a medical capacity for one of her classes. From that day forward, they had forged a deep friendship which eventually turned into something more. As with most things in her life, the relationship disintegrated and Erica picked up and left. She'd gotten over it eventually, though, sometimes it still hurt.

But she couldn't think about that right now, because she was in a car with two grown men from New York's Finest headed towards JFK airport to go to Europe because evil, Russian, bad guys were after her. It was ridiculous and absurd, and yet it was her life. She just wanted to laugh at the situation, but unfortunately it was still a bit too soon.

The taxi came to a stop at the main terminal of John F. Kennedy International Airport. Callie let out a sigh, not at all excited for what was about to happen. Following Mark and Avery through the automatic doors, Callie wished she had been able to pack something…anything. They were going to Europe for God knows how long sans bags or any other type of luggage. Hell, she didn't even have spare underwear.

Her eyes roamed the entrance while Mark smoothed talked a TSA agent and Avery negotiated ticket purchases for the three of them. Her gaze caught sight of curly, blonde hair and her breath hitched. For just a second she thought it was Erica, but as the woman turned around, Callie realized she'd been mistaken in the best way possible. For just the briefest of moments the world stopped as brown eyes met blue. The brunette could hardly breathe and she felt warmth tingle all up and down her body. She felt the need to follow her as she watched the mystery woman walk towards security.

"Stop drooling, Torres," Mark joked as he approached the now blushing Latina.

Callie didn't bother responding to his comment and just rolled her eyes. "Where's my ticket?"

"Right here," Avery said from behind Mark.

The brunette snatched it out of his hand, walking quickly towards security. "She's probably already halfway through the line, Callie."

"Suck it, Mark," she shot over her shoulder. Callie stepped into the line for security, which was ungodly long, just a few people behind the mysterious blonde. She could hear Mark and Avery a few yards behind her arguing like a couple of school girls over whose eyes were prettier. Their bromance was getting a little out of control, but the two geniuses wouldn't even admit it existed. They were "partners", which was hilarious in her opinion.

"Move!" Mark yelled, pushing forward through the line.

Callie turned around as she heard Mark yell. She saw him pushing through the line towards her with Avery hot on his heels. She was unbelievably confused as to why this was going on until her eyes landed on a gang of burly men running towards the line. "Shit!" she cursed as she tried to dodge around people in the security line. The line was long and all the movement was pissing people off. She expected to pass the blonde on her way through, but soon realized she was rushing ahead as well. Confused as hell, but unable to contemplate anything other than trying to stay alive, Callie rushed towards the x-ray belts and metal detectors, praying to God they could get there before the crazy bad guys reached them.

People were yelling at them and started to push back. Callie bit her lip and hoped this wouldn't get too out of hand, but she had her doubts. Finally reaching the TSA agent, Callie thrust her ID and boarding pass into his hand, not caring about the jeering people behind her. Mark and Avery could take care of themselves, as could she, but those were big men and Callie valued her limbs intact.

Once through the security checkpoint, she let out a breath. She stepped through the metal detector acutely aware that the gorgeous and mysterious blonde stood directly in front of her. She silently chastised herself for having definitively inappropriate thoughts at the worst possible time. But something inside her was screaming for her to just say something.

"Why were you running?" Callie asked, immediately wishing she could smack herself for her lack of smoothness.

"Excuse me?" she responded, looking up from her purse.

"You were running through the security line, and I was wondering why."

She arched an eyebrow. "You were also running."

"Yes, because I'm in a shitty situation that involves bad men chasing me," Callie answered in spite of herself.

The blonde slung her purse over her shoulder. "I hear you on that one."

"Where you headed?"

"Zurich."

Callie nearly choked. "You're kidding."

"Nope," she answered with a smile. "What about you?"

The Latina swallowed. "Zurich."

"Without any luggage?" the blonde questioned.

Callie shrugged. "It was a last minute decision."

"Me too."

"Callie," the brunette said, formally introducing herself.

The blonde grinned widely. "Arizona."

"I'm Mark Sloan," the detective said as he came up behind Callie.

"And I'm Jackson Avery," the sidekick added.

"They're my body guards," Callie said wryly.

Arizona smirked. "I'm a little jealous."

"Do you believe in coincidence?" Callie asked.

"Nope."

"Me either."


	3. London Bridges

A/N: And…chapter 3 of the adventure fic. I want to apologize for my lack of replying to reviews. I got super behind, and then just couldn't catch up, but I really wanted to update, so I chose that. I will reply to this round, as per usual. Again…my most sincere apologies. I pride myself on replying to reviews whether I get one or fifty (which has never happened), so please know that I do still enjoy reading them and appreciate you leaving them. Also…in light of the holiday spirit…it's updates abound. The Caress Me Down Remix was updated (finally), this fic, Uncharted, and I'm also putting up my two holiday one-shots that have been previously unavailable. Yay for the holidays!

Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

><p>Chapter 3: London Bridges<p>

Arizona crossed and re-crossed her legs, her hands fidgeting with the open magazine on her lap. She inwardly fought with herself as she attempted to keep her eyes trained downwards, and not allowing them to wander towards the gorgeous woman next to her. She was wound so tightly from the goons, the death of her brother, and the appearance of the stunning Latina. Basically, Arizona was a wreck. A shiver ran down her spine as her eyes darted to the right, silently passing over the woman next to her.

This was dangerous. Her whole life was dangerous right now. She was heading to Zurich, presumably to the U.S. Consulate, to track down the last three people to see her brother alive. Hopefully, they hadn't been moved back to the base across the German border. That would make her life much more difficult, and difficulty was not what she needed at the moment.

Since she pushed through the security line, and reached her gate, Arizona had been able to take a bit of a breath. Her heart still pounded in her ears, but she didn't know if that was from the free flowing adrenaline or the close proximity to a particular brunette. She really needed to take better care of herself, especially her sexual self, if just seeing a pretty woman sent her into overdrive. It was a bit of an issue.

She didn't like to admit how long it had been, but ever since she and Joanne, her last long relationship, broke up a couple of years ago, there hadn't been anything serious. Arizona had thrown herself into work, and saw women every once in a while, when she had time. She'd never been much of a player, preferring instead to have a real emotional connection to a person, before just falling into bed with them. Some called her "old fashioned" or some other condescending label, but the blonde supposed it was the remnants from her dutiful upbringing as the daughter of a colonel in the Marine Corps.

It wasn't like she was a prude or anything, far from it, Arizona just did not like to take advantage of women, or string them along, or whatever. She loved women, and she loved loving women. The loving just hadn't been as frequent or long standing as she would have liked at the moment. Hence, her blushing, stammering, and fidgeting self. The bright side, however, was that she and this mysterious Callie woman were simply traveling to the same city; they had nothing else in common, and would probably never see each other again.

Except for the fact that evil Russian people were apparently chasing both of them.

Sighing deeply, Arizona stood from her chair, and walked over to the bathrooms. Thankful that she apparently picked the only empty women's restroom in the whole of the airport, the blonde leaned over the sink. She inspected her reflection; she looked tired, and a little worn. Shrugging, Arizona turned on the water, filling her hands, and splashing the liquid against her face. The water dripping off her cheekbones, the blonde raised her head to look at her reflection again. She ran a nervous hand through her golden locks, bristling at the uncertainty of what was to come.

She had no idea what she was doing, or what she would find on this journey. She just wanted to find justice for her brother and peace for herself and her family. But she knew something was weird about the whole thing. Pulling out her brother's leather bound journal, she smoothed her fingers over the cover. A drop of water landed on the leather surface. Arizona put the book down on the counter, and grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall. She dabbed her eyes and her face, removing the excess water. After throwing the used brown paper in the trash, the blonde turned around, and gasped in surprise. "Oh my God!"

"I'm sorry," Callie apologized sincerely. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to check and make sure you were alright."

"Yeah," Arizona replied, still catching her breath, "I'm fine. I just needed to collect my thoughts."

"Ok good," the Latina nodded. "You just looked a little shaken."

"Oh, I'm good," the blonde answered, allowing an awkward silence to fall on them.

Callie reached for the book on the counter. "Is this yours?"

"No," Arizona answered on instinct, before pausing and taking a breath. "Well, yes," she corrected. "Kind of."

"Kind of?" Callie inquired, raising her eyebrows.

"It was my brother's," the blonde confessed, swirling her finger across the cover. A look of concern passed over Callie's features, but the Latina let the subject go. She hardly knew the woman, and didn't particularly plan on inquiring about her personal life. Arizona, however, continued anyway. "He died…my brother."

"I'm sorry," Callie offered.

"He was a Marine," the blonde continued, not really acknowledging the brunette's apology. "I don't know how he died, but he gave me this book, well this guy named Captain Karev did, but he said Tim gave it to him to give to me, but then these Russian guys showed up and now I'm heading to Zurich without any clothes and barely any cash and…"

"It's ok," the brunette said calmly as she wrapped her arms around the rambling woman. "It'll be ok."

After a few minutes, the blonde stepped back from the Latina, blushing slightly. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "I tend to ramble."

Callie shrugged, offering the other woman a smirk. "I can deal with rambling. I've been known to ramble, though usually it's in Spanish."

Arizona quirked an eyebrow. "Spanish huh? That's interesting, though I doubt it'll help in Switzerland."

The brunette just continued to smirk. "I'm full of surprises."

The blonde's mouth became dry at Callie's insinuation. Something about this woman simply captivated her. Of course, it didn't help that there seemed to be an air of mystery and adventure swirling around the two of them. Who knew danger could be so sexy?

"Flight 25321 to London will begin boarding in ten minutes."

The sound of the intercom jolted Arizona from her trance. "I guess we better go."

"Sounds like it," the Latina replied, before following Arizona out of the bathroom towards the gate. Jackson and Mark stood by their bags dutifully. They were such goofballs, thinking they were in charge of everything. She shot Mark a pointed look as she slung her purse over her shoulder.

"Avery," he said, while looking right at Callie, "let's go get us some snacks."

"But we're boar…."

"Snacks, now," Mark hissed through gritted teeth, motioning towards Callie with his eyes.

"Oh," Jackson nodded. "Yeah I need pretzels."

Arizona raised her eyebrows as she looked at Callie. "Subtle."

The brunette shrugged. "It's my middle name."

"So is this the part where we part ways before we board the plane in all probability that we will never see each other again, while pretending we don't have one glaring thing in common?" the blonde quipped, tilting her head playfully.

"What's that?"

"Scary men chasing us."

"Perhaps, but mine are scary Russian men," the Latina replied.

Arizona raised her eyebrows. "Mine are also scary Russian men."

Callie's eyes narrowed in sobering realization. The playful atmosphere between them evaporated, both women silently acknowledging the situation just became much more serious than their playful banter had initially demonstrated. The women stood in silence until Callie's section was called for boarding. "Well I guess I better…uh…get going."

"Me too," the blonde responded.

"You're in group two as well?"

"Yep," Arizona answered, slinging her own purse over her shoulder.

"Coincidence?"

"Thought you didn't believe in them," the blonde quipped, returning their previous playful atmosphere.

"I don't."

"Me either."

"So," Mark interjected, approaching the two women with Avery in his wake, "you ready to board, Torres?"

"Just let me collect my luggage," the brunette replied sarcastically.

"Funny," Mark responded.

"Seriously though, I need to go shopping," she paused, and turned towards Arizona. "Maybe you'd want to join…assuming we're in the same area of Zurich?"

Arizona nodded. "I need clothes, and I also have no plans except for certain things."

"That's not vague at all," Avery snorted, receiving a glare from Callie.

"Can we just get on the plane?"

"After you," Mark motioned towards the line.

The foursome stood in line to board the plane, becoming separated slightly by the amount of jockeying and just general movement. Callie could see Arizona's blonde head bob ahead of her by a few people. She glanced at her seating assignment, hoping she and the blonde would be near each other. She saw Arizona take a seat and silently did a happy dance within the confines of her mind. She was sitting in the row right across from her.

Callie took her place between Mark and Avery, a position she didn't particularly enjoy. Within seconds, the two cops were playfully bickering, something which Callie sometimes found cute, but right now, she just wanted to kill them. "Mark," the brunette hissed.

"What?"

"Switch seats with Arizona," Callie ordered.

Mark rolled his eyes. "Seriously Torres? You want me to switch places for an overseas flight so you can make goo-goo eyes at your new girlfriend? We have bigger issues at the moment?"

"Please Mark, you're a detective," the brunette fired back, "do you honestly think that we're going to go to Europe and she's just going to disappear? Besides, she's cute and I could die soon, so let me have my plane ride next to the cute girl," Callie pointed out, appealing to the detective's more shallow side.

"Fine," Mark conceded, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Blondie," he said as he stood, "Torres wants us to switch seats."

"Um ok," Arizona responded, moving over to Callie's side of the aisle. "Long time no see," she said, plopping down into her new seat. She heard a faint snore from the seat next to the Latina. Looking over she saw the other detective, Avery she thought his name was, sleeping against the window. "Wow, he wasted no time."

Callie looked over at the sleeping detective and smiled. "Oh Avery? It's better if he's sleeping."

"I wish I could sleep on planes."

"You can't?" the Latina questioned.

"I'm terrified of flying, so sleeping just doesn't happen." As if on cue, the plane pulled away from the gate and began to taxi along the runway. Arizona's fingers clenched the armrest tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Callie reached over and grabbed the blonde's hand, receiving an inquiring look from Arizona. "Human comfort has to be better than the armrest."

Not in a position to argue, Arizona relaxed her head against the seat; her hand still wrapped tightly the brunette's. The plane picked up speed and within seconds was airborne. As the plane began to level at cruising altitude, her death grip on Callie's hand relaxed. "Sorry," she apologized weekly as she watched Callie flex her hand.

"It's fine," Callie replied with a smile, "I have strong hands."

Arizona simply returned the smile, not trusting herself to reply with anything other than some dirty remark. She noticed Callie closing her eyes. "You going to sleep?"

"Nah, I'll stay up with you," the Latina replied warmly.

"We can watch movies?" Arizona suggested, motioning towards the private TV screens.

"I feel like a teenager," Callie giggled. "But yes, we can so watch movies."

They fell into an easy pattern of banter as the plane continued its trajectory over the ocean. After arguing over which movies to watch, they spent most of the flight giggling over silly romantic comedies like middle schoolers at their first slumber party. Avery slept through all of it, luckily for him, while Mark just continuously rolled his eyes and watched his own selection of romantic comedies, though he would never tell Callie that.

Despite the earlier separation of their hands, the two women found their fingers creeping closer towards that connection. Using a suspenseful moment in an adventure film chosen by Callie as an excuse, Arizona seized the opportunity to grab the brunette's hand, lacing their fingers together. The Latina attempted to suppress the obvious grin from her face, but Arizona could clearly tell that her move had been well received. Their quiet flirtation was fun and was definitely made to be short lived, but logically speaking, there was no way this plane ride was the end of whatever it was that had been started. But even without the Russian bad guys, they were both flying from New York. Arizona didn't really believe in fate, but the universe was speaking, hell it was shouting.

She couldn't exactly ignore it.

A couple of hours later, the captain announced their decent into London. The relaxing grip Arizona held on Callie's hand quickly became vice like. The brunette internally marveled at Arizona's strength. Clearly she hated landings even more than takeoffs, but they'd be touching down soon, so no big deal. The wheels crashed onto the ground with a thud, the pilot breaking hard. Arizona's eyes were screwed shut as she braced herself.

She managed to exhale as the plane rolled towards the terminal. Once the jet had parked, and the seat belt light turned off, Arizona bolted into the aisle with Callie right on her heels. They were near the front of the plane, so they were able to get off quickly. Mark and Avery, however, got sandwiched and were a little behind.

"Wait," Callie said, pulling on the blonde's hand, "we should wait for Mark and Jackson."

"Yeah, sorry," the blonde apologized. "I just needed to get off that thing."

"I totally understand," the Latina replied with a smile. "It's ok."

"You two ready?" Jackson asked, approaching them from behind.

"Yeah," Callie answered. "I need a nap."

"Well we don't fly out until late tonight, so I'm sure you can pass out somewhere."

"Hurray for airport chairs," she responded with fake enthusiasm.

The foursome began to walk down the long airport hall, heading towards their other gate. As they moved, Callie had a sinking feeling in her stomach like something was going to happen. Every bearded man made her jump; every language she heard that wasn't English made her think it was Russian. She was going a little crazy, both from fear and general confusion. "I need to go to the bathroom," she announced, just needing to get away from everything.

Entering the ladies' room, she made a beeline for the sink. Much like she had before the flight from JFK, the brunette splashed water on her face. She grabbed a towel and dabbed at the wet skin. As she did so, she heard heavy footsteps entering the room. She turned and looked at the intruder, her eyes landing on a taller, bearded man with stone gray eyes and gigantic boots. "The men's room is one door over," Callie supplied, swallowing the lump in her throat knowing that the man had probably found what he was looking for…or whom.

The man merely smiled devilishly before charging the flabbergasted Latina. He pinned her against the wall, his hand choking her throat. Her arms flailed wildly, her fists coming into contact with any part of him possible. He was just so much bigger, though, that he was able to hold her without too much effort. Callie felt her eyes closing and consciousness slipped as he squeezed the breath out of her. With one last effort, she pushed with all her might, sending the man careening into the stalls. She gasped as her lungs filled with air, her legs moving her forward uneasily.

She staggered out of the bathroom, still gasping, and ran straight into Mark. She tried talking, but she was still recovering from her recent assault. Mark grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently. "What happened, Torres? What's going on?" Upon her silence, he glanced behind her towards the bathroom. His eyes centered on the burly man exiting the women's restroom, heading straight for them. "Avery!" Mark commanded, "take the girls. I'll catch up."

Avery ushered Callie and Arizona the other way. "Run!" he yelled, and they took off in a sprint, dashing through the human traffic of the airport. Callie didn't know where she was going, nor did she have a plan of any kind; she hoped Jackson took care of that. They ran for, God knows how long, before slowing to a halt at the food court. "I think we lost them," Callie managed to sputter, gasping for air. As she looked up, however, her eyes connected with a pair of blue ones that were cold as ice. She stood horrified as he crossed the food court towards them with three other minions in his wake. She felt herself being tugged and just followed because she didn't know what else to do.

She ran in Arizona's wake, following the blonde around the hospital, hoping beyond all hope they could lose the bad guys. They stopped near the escalators for ground transport, bent over to catch their breaths. Callie looked around, realizing Avery wasn't with them. "Where the fuck is Jackson?"

"No idea," Arizona panted. "Oh my God, I need to work out more."

"Or we could just get chased by Russians until we're in ridiculously good shape."

"I just want to rest," the blonde decreed, her arms hanging at her side.

"Cant," Callie replied, pointing behind the blonde.

"Shit," Arizona cursed, hopping on the escalator. "We have to get out of the building. For whatever reason, they found us in here, and they will continue to do so. They probably have tickets for our flight. They know where we're going and we have no idea which one of us they're after specifically or why."

"Speaking of that," Callie interjected, "we should probably discuss this at some point."

"We can talk on the train," Arizona concluded.

"The train? To where?"

"Paris for starters…just not here."

Well at least one of them had a plan.


	4. I'm with You

A/N: Thank you for being so patient; I know I've been really slow as of late. The good news is that I really and truly have survived my hardest academic time in college, so I'm hoping to update more regularly until I finish off this round of fics. I hope you enjoy this.

Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: I'm with You<p>

Arizona breathed a sigh of relief as the train sped under the English Channel. The last twenty four hours had been a complete and utter shit show. Between her brother's journal popping up, running from crazy, evil Russians, and bumping into a beautiful woman out of nowhere, her head was spinning. There were no words to explain how disjointed she felt. Her heart still thudded loudly in her chest because of the remaining adrenaline from running in the airport. She still couldn't believe that had happened. Bad people literally wanted her dead. How could she even begin to cope with that?

Meanwhile, she tried to not focus on the gorgeous woman sitting across from her on the train. It was a bit of an issue. Theoretically, the threat of death by crazy Russian madmen should have been enough to quell anything resembling her libido, but one look at the Latina and she was done. Arizona stared as Callie swiveled her head towards the window, her dark locks falling gently over her shoulder. This was torture. She swallowed hard, looked away, and pretended like she didn't want to run her fingers through the woman's soft looking hair.

"Arizona?"

"I'm sorry, what?" the blonde answered, shaking her head from being flustered.

The Latina smirked, acutely aware that she may have been the cause of Arizona's distraction. "Nothing."

"No, what? What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything," Callie replied smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure that you were actually staring at me, and judging by your reaction and the blush on your cheeks, I'm pretty sure that I'm accurate in my assessment."

Really blushing now, the blonde looked away shyly. "So um, do you know how far away we are from our stop?"

Smiling at the change of subject, Callie decided to just roll with it. "Under an hour I think, judging by the map anyway."

"Good," Arizona answered. "I could really use a shower."

"And a nap!" the Latina added. "I'm so exhausted. I haven't slept in…I don't even remember the last time actually."

"I hear you there," the blonde agreed. "I haven't slept since before my brother's funeral."

Callie frowned. "I'm sorry for your loss. And the fact that you're dealing with craziness on top of it," she consoled, her hand instinctively grabbing Arizona's. "If you need to talk about it, I'll listen."

"Thank you," Arizona smiled, "but I should probably talk about it anyway, because I think it might have something to do with what's going on."

"Ok," the Latina replied, squeezing Arizona's hand a bit tighter due to her own nerves.

"My brother was a captain in the marines. He was killed in action. I was sad for awhile, and still am, but then I did the most natural thing for me to do: dig."

"What'd you find?"

"Nothing!" Arizona lamented.

"Ok," Callie said slowly, "so then it was…some sort of roadside bomb?"

"That's the thing," the blonde said, pushing through the lump of sadness in her throat, "there was nothing about it, and in my world…nothing is a huge red flag. To make matters worse, I was visited by Captain Karev, a platoon mate of my brother's. He gave me Tim's journal and told me to head to Zurich. The military is holding three other people who were out in Baghdad with Tim that day at the American consulate, though they might be in Germany already at the base."

"So that's why you're going to Zurich? To figure out what happened to your brother," Callie summarized, searching for connections between their two stories.

"You look confused."

"I really am," the brunette confessed.

"Why?"

"Because…what in the world does a dead military officer have anything to do with armed, scary Russians?"

"No need to be so cavalier," Arizona commented, rolling her eyes.

Callie's expression immediately softened, and she tightly gripped the blonde's hand with both of hers. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I'm not trying to be insensitive; I'm just trying to make sense of what is going on."

"Ok so then, why do you think you're being chased?"

"I'm a physical anthropologist, and I've been helping the police over the past couple of years with identification and heavily concealed forensic evidence. Yesterday, I got the lab results back on a body that showed the deceased woman was a relative of the Romanov family."

"Romanov as in Russian tsars Romanov?"

"The nerd in me is unbelievably delighted to hear you say those words," Callie said with a cheeky grin.

Despite the situation, Arizona found herself being pulled back into the flirtatious game she shared with the Latina. "Well I'm glad I can satisfy you."

"You haven't satisfied me yet," Callie quipped, her voice laced with lust. Something about the woman across from her brought out her bolder side. She didn't flirt like this, even with Erica. Arizona made her feel things, want things she never even imagined.

Like sex on a train for example.

"Cat got your tongue?" Arizona's voice cut across the sexual tension.

"Huh?"

The blonde smirked. "How about we go back to discussing Russian bad guys?"

"But I was having fun," Callie playfully pouted.

"We can have fun later."

A rose color tinted the brunette's cheeks as she digested Arizona's rather explicit implication. "So um," she coughed, "Russian bad guys."

Arizona caressed Callie's thumb. "Yeah, Russian bad guys."

"They're bad."

"And Russian," the blonde added, leaning closer, and completely ignoring the urgent situation at hand.

"And we're in Paris," Callie said as the conductor announced their arrival, sitting back in her seat, and sighing.

Arizona opened her eyes, completely surprised at what had just happened. She literally throbbed from excitement. Callie's light teasing had her more than on edge, but she just grit her teeth and bared it because she really didn't have another choice. "Awesome," she forced a smile.

Callie chuckled and leaned in to whisper in Arizona's ear. "Hang in there," she murmured, her breath ghosting across the sensitive skin behind the blonde's ear, "I'll make it up to you later."

"You better," Arizona teased back, standing as the train came to a stop.

"Should we head to the street and see if we can find a hotel?" the brunette asked.

"Well you move fast."

Callie blushed. "I didn't mean to assume…I jus"

Arizona interrupted her with a fleeting kiss on the Latina's cheek. "I think it would be stupid for us to separate."

"Me too," Callie said, blushing from the contact of Arizona's lips against her skin.

"But I also need some clothes first," the blonde added. "We should shop and get a couple of suitcases, so we aren't traveling in the same clothes for the next few days."

"Ewww," Callie said, wrinkling her nose. "That'd be gross."

"Shall we?" the smaller woman asked, extending her hand to Callie.

The brunette took the offering, lacing their fingers together. "Yes, lead the way."

The two women embarked on a brief journey through Paris, which under different circumstances would have been thoroughly enjoyable. The dire situation, however, put a damper on their spirits, and by the time they finished gathering the essentials for a couple of days, both women were completely and utterly exhausted. Callie didn't even have the energy to lament the fact that she and Arizona didn't quite take Paris by storm.

They arrived at the hotel, and Arizona negotiated with the front desk clerk. The brunette was surprised by the smaller woman's ease with French. Callie, herself, did actually speak French in addition to Spanish and Italian, but she was content to let Arizona work her magic. When she returned, Arizona informed the Latina that their room was on the third floor and they had two beds.

Callie was a little disappointed.

The ride on the elevator was quiet, both women silently acknowledging the intimacy of their situation. They went from strangers to companions to hotel room buddies in the span of a few hours. And there was also that bit about mutual attraction about which neither of them was really talking. The idea of standing in a confined space with Arizona literally made Callie's head swim, but she did her best to ignore it as the door to the room swung open.

"So I thought you said two queen beds?" Callie inquired as they entered the room, her voice cracking in surprise.

"Well, apparently, they gave us a king."

The Latina bit her lip, trying not to let her own nervousness and lustful feelings show. "Ok, well, I am acutely aware of the fact that I am about to pass out."

"Oh me too," Arizona agreed.

"I hope you don't mind," Callie said as she slid her jeans off her body. "I hate sleeping in jeans."

Arizona swallowed, her mouth becoming instantly dry at the sight of the brunette's long, toned legs. "I don't mind at all."

Smiling coyly, the Latina crawled onto the bed, burying herself underneath the covers. As her body touched the soft material of the sheets, her flirty mood vanished and all she could concentrate on was sleep. If she wasn't so damn tired, she would have continued her banter with Arizona, but she was barely remaining conscious as it was. She found herself drifting into slumber. Just before she fell asleep, Callie felt the bed sink at the addition of another person. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Arizona shifted slowly on the bed, trying not to disturb the sleeping woman next to her as she found her own comfort. She'd shed her own pants, enjoying the freedom of having her legs bare. She also climbed underneath the covers, and sighed at the familiar comfort of being cradled by pillows. As sleep over took her, Arizona scooted closer to the napping Latina, drowsily dropping an arm over her side.

* * *

><p>Callie stirred some hours later, yawning and stretching her tired limbs. Her movement disturbed the sleeping blonde next to her. The Latina heard Arizona groan in protest, and pull tighter at her waist. As Callie slowly regained full thinking abilities, she realized exactly how intimate of a position they were in. Arizona's hand splayed across the brunette's abdomen, their legs tucked together comfortably, and Callie could feel the soft whisper of the blonde's breath against her neck. Not trusting herself to move, the Latina stayed perfectly still as Arizona continued to slumber cuddled up next to her.<p>

She had to bite back a moan, however, as the blonde's fingers started to move over Callie's stomach. They pleasantly tickled her, clouding her mind with the beginnings of dizzying pleasure. Her body hummed under Arizona's gentle touch, a distracting throb pulsing through her. Arizona seemed content next to her, but Callie neared the brink of insanity with each swipe of the blonde's fingers. The Latina was beginning to lose her slight calculated control over the situation. She became very aware of Arizona's breasts pressing against her back, finding it difficult to eradicate images of palming one of those delicious swells, and driving the blonde over the edge. Her breathing became ragged as Arizona's fingers crept upward, dancing closer and closer to Callie's own breasts.

This wasn't good.

Not trusting herself to hold out much longer, Callie scooted off the bed and nearly ran into the bathroom. She splashed some water on her face, hoping that would quell the fire burning within her. It didn't. She sighed, and decided to take a shower. She stepped into the warm spray, happily allowing it to caress her body. As she lathered the soap across her skin, she couldn't help but wish it was Arizona. The blonde woman had this way of affecting her that Callie hadn't felt in a long time. Truthfully, she'd never felt such an immediate pull to another person, and it was wreaking havoc on her mind.

Stepping out of the shower, the brunette wrapped a towel around her body. She opened the bathroom door, and made her way towards her suitcase, so she could put on some clothes. She and Arizona were probably going to take the late train out of Paris to Zurich, spending the night on the train as it crossed into Switzerland. She'd called Mark and Avery before they got to the hotel, so they knew where they were, and said to meet them in Zurich tomorrow morning.

Movement caught from the corner of her eye drew the Latina's attention to the other side of the room. Arizona stretched and padded into the bathroom, not saying a word to Callie as she did so. The Latina chuckled; clearly Arizona didn't wake up well. Within a few minutes, however, she heard the water running, indicating Arizona was taking a shower. She waited for the blonde to finish in the bathroom by quickly packing up her things in the suitcase she purchased yesterday. They'd slept longer than she initially anticipated, so Callie didn't want to waste time puttering around the hotel room.  
>After ten minutes or so, Arizona emerged from the bathroom clad only in a small towel. The Latina felt flushed and looked away, deciding a brief point of conversation would help. "I was thinking we could get some food before we hopped on the train," Callie said, fighting the blush tinting her cheeks at the sight of Arizona in just a towel.<p>

"I like food," Arizona replied with a smile.

"Ok cool," the Latina said, nervously fidgeting as she tried not to look at the blonde while she changed. That, however, was not going particularly well. Her eyes raked up Arizona's toned legs, and up her back, imagining what it would be like to feel those legs wrapped around her.

"Like what you see, Callie?" The blonde asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Busted. "I…uh…spaced out?"

"Nice try," Arizona answered, pulling on her jeans.

Callie blushed and looked away, waiting for Arizona to finish getting dressed. "You ready?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Just let me throw this into the suitcase. Ok." She declared upon completing her zip of the luggage, "I'm ready."

Callie smiled and opened the door for the smaller woman. They walked to the elevator in a comfortable silence. Their fingers brushed as they both reached for the button, the contact sending a pulse of electricity through their bodies. The Latina inhaled sharply as she stepped into the confined space with Arizona.

"Callie?" the blonde asked as the doors closed.

"Yeah?" She answered, turning her head so she faced the smaller woman.

Arizona didn't answer verbally. Instead, she gently pressed her lips against the brunette's in a tender kiss. Their lips glided over one another softly and yet full of passion. As the doors dinged open, the blonde stepped back smiling. "Sorry," she murmured, "I've been wanting to do that forever."

Callie smiled and dropped a quick kiss against Arizona's lips, before taking her hand and guiding her through the lobby. Her eyes scanned the room, and she instantly became nervous and anxious. Three burly men stood and stared at them as they crossed the room. "Run," she whispered to Arizona, as they neared the door.

She vaguely remembered hearing a gunshot clink off the revolving hotel door. Waving their arms wildly, the two women managed to hail a cab. They quickly threw their luggage in the trunk, and climbed in yelling at the driver to get them out of there. Heaving a sigh of relief, Callie looked out the back window, her eyes focusing on the three Russians and their sneers as their silhouettes faded into the Paris night.


	5. Better Off Dead

A/N: I meant to have this done a couple weeks ago, but life got in the way. Anyway, I think I got my mojo back, and will be writing more in the coming weeks, so hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this; I'm having lots of fun writing it.

Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

><p>Chapter 5: Better Off Dead<p>

"Holy shit!" Arizona exclaimed, her chest heaving. "What is going on?"

Callie massaged her temples. "I have no idea."

The blonde shivered. "I really hate being shot at."

The Latina reached over and put her arms around the smaller woman. She gently caressed Arizona's arms, trying to soothe her. In truth, Callie was just putting on a brave face. This situation absolutely terrified her. She was in Paris, riding in a cab with a woman she barely knew, but to whom she was extremely attracted, while seriously awful men chased them across Europe with guns. Nothing about this situation was comforting.

And yet she smiled anyway.

"We could talk about it?" Callie suggested.

Arizona shook her head. "I'm not there yet. Maybe on the train."

Callie sighed as the taxi continued towards the train station. Their situation just seemed to continue to deteriorate, and they had no way to get answers until they arrived in Zurich. Then, Callie could get to work on identifying the remains and examining the body, and Arizona could figure out what was going on with her brother. She still didn't have any idea how they fit together exactly. What could a marine and a dead woman in New York City have in common? And not only that, but why did the Russians care? The mystery was seriously starting to mess with her head, and she couldn't make sense of it at all.

Once the taxi slowed to a stop, Callie quickly led Arizona inside, and under the cover of a building, where hopefully the Russian bad guys couldn't touch them. She slid some cash underneath the window to purchase tickets for herself and Arizona, not wanting to leave a paper trail. She didn't know to what lengths the Russians would go to track them, but Callie didn't want to take any chances.

"Our train leaves in ten minutes," Callie said, as she led Arizona towards the train with their tickets in hand.

"You're walking quickly," the blonde commented, falling into step next to fast moving Latina.

"I'm a bit skidish these days," the brunette admitted. "I would rather be safely on the train as soon as possible."

Arizona nodded. "I completely understand. These last two days have been making me crazy paranoid."

"Would you mind terribly if I held your hand?" the Latina asked softly.

"Well not terribly," Arizona rolled her eyes and smirked, lacing her fingers through Callie's.

The brunette couldn't keep the smile off her face as she relaxed. There was something unbelievably comforting about having Arizona's hand in hers that made this situation from hell bearable. She didn't know much about anything yet, but Callie felt strength in her companionship with Arizona, which in turn, calmed her anxiety a little. She still hated being shot at and was afraid for her life, but all of that seemed less daunting with Arizona at her side.

Admittedly, Callie didn't know her all that well. She didn't know where she grew up, or her favorite food, or where she went to college, but she knew they were both being shot at for roughly the same reason. There was nothing like the threat of critical injury or death that brought people together. The Latina decided it was the companionship aspect of their situation. Life was less scary when facing it with another person; that was still true even when guns and Russian bad guys were involved.

"After you," Callie directed as she allowed Arizona to pass her and enter the train car.

"Callie!" she exclaimed, "This is gorgeous."

The brunette shrugged as she entered the train car. She had reserved a private car for them. Honestly, she just couldn't risk people listening to their conversations, nor did she want to deal with actually being around people. "I wanted to give us some privacy. I figured we could actually talk about some stuff, and try to figure out what's going on."

"I think this is all part of your elaborate plan to get me in bed," Arizona said cheekily.

Callie threw her head back and laughed. "I already got you into bed, Arizona."

"Semantics," the blonde huffed. "You know what I meant."

"I do," Callie agreed, taking a seat in the booth on the other side of the car. "Although, technically, you're the one who kissed me, so it's you trying to get me into bed."

Arizona tried to fight off the blush tinting her cheeks. "Yes, I did. I don't regret it though."

"I only regret that I couldn't enjoy it."

"Because we got shot at?"

The Latina smirked, her eyes shining with mischief. "Because you sneak attacked me in an elevator."

"I did not!"

"Oh you did so," Callie replied. "You totally jumped me in an elevator and then Russians shot at us. I didn't even have a minute to enjoy it."

Arizona knew that she shouldn't allow herself to get wrapped up in the game she and Callie were playing, but something about the Latina drew her in. She had this magnetism that held the blonde captive, firmly underneath the spell of her smile and her charm. One smile from Callie, and Arizona felt the pain and the anxiety melt away. It was fleeting, and she knew nothing about her traveling companion except that she was beautiful and smart, but Arizona couldn't deny the effect Callie had on her. That was why she crossed the cabin to stand directly in front of Callie, her hand resting on the wall behind her head.

Callie swallowed at the close proximity of the blonde. She could smell the sweetness of the hotel shampoo. Strawberry. Her hair smelled the same way, but for some reason it smelled way better on Arizona's blonde curls. The blonde stood so close, yet she was just far enough away that Callie would have to obviously move in order to taste those luscious lips again. She straightened her back against the wall, tilting her chin upwards, her brown eyes twinkling at Arizona, and daring the blonde to finish what she started.

The blonde lowered a hand, and caressed Callie's cheek. "I'm sorry you didn't get to enjoy it," she breathed, leaning a little closer.

"I can think of a couple ways you can make it up to me," the Latina replied, attempting to keep her cool as her heart raced and heat flooded her body.

"Yeah?" Arizona asked, continuing to close the gap between them.

"Oh yeah," Callie husked, her breath tickling the blonde's lips as she just barely touched her own.

Arizona sighed as their lips finally met. Callie had been totally right. Neither of them got to savor their last kiss. This was so much better. She pushed forward, tucking her fingers underneath the brunette's thighs, and dragged her to the edge of the booth. With a sly grin, she sat on Callie's lap, and tangled her hands in the taller woman's long, dark hair. Her tongue gently rubbed against Callie's in a sensuous dance, each touch eliciting another shiver, another whimper.  
>Her lungs burning with the need to breathe, Arizona pulled back slowly, peeling her lips from Callie's. "How was that? Enjoyable?"<p>

Her eyes still closed, Callie exhaled and nodded. "Definitely."

"Good," the blonde nodded as she took a seat across from Callie.

"What are you doing?"

Arizona sighed in exasperation. "As much as I would love to continue in the direction in which we were just headed, like it or not we have some bad men chasing after us with bullets. I want to figure out why."

Callie nodded in agreement, putting on her business face. "OK. So all we know is that your brother died mysteriously and left you his journal and I have a dead old lady who appears to be a descendant of the Romanov family."

"Yeah," the blonde said. "Wait, you said old…you didn't say old earlier today."

The Latina nodded again. "Yeah, it is an old body from awhile ago, but for whatever reason, it just turned up now."

"That happens?"

"More than you would think," Callie said, swirling her hand over the table. "Have you looked at your brother's journal?"

Arizona shook her head as she reached down to her bag to grab it. "Not yet." She placed the small, leather bound book on the table. "Would you?" she asked meekly, sliding it over in front of Callie.

"You sure?"

The blonde nodded. "Yes. I'm not ready," she confessed, casting her eyes downward. "But I want to know what is going on."

Callie squeezed Arizona's hand. "Ok." She gently opened the cover, and was immediately surprised by how old the book was. She noticed a letter folded up and secured by the crease. Callie carefully removed the piece of paper. She glanced over the words and quickly reached a conclusion. "This isn't your brother's journal."

Arizona raised her eyebrows in a mixture of shock and skepticism. "What do you mean it's not my brother's journal?"

Callie handed the blonde the letter she'd just pulled out of the pages. "It's your grandmother's."

"My grandmother's?" The blonde asked no one in particular. She traced her fingers over the crinkled piece of paper, taking a deep breath before allowing herself to scan her eyes over the words.

_Arizona,_

_If you are reading this, then I am probably not on this earth anymore. Please know that I love you very much, and you're the best sister a guy could ask for. I'm hoping you got this safely and are not being hunted, but I will not hold my breath._

_You're probably wondering what the hell I'm talking about and what this book is. It belonged to our grandmother, Kari Christiansen, Mom's grandmother. She died long before we ever met her. Things aren't adding up here, Arizona, which would be why I am most likely not with you anymore. If you can, find someone to translate the book, because it holds the key._

_All I know is that Kari Christiansen was not our grandmother's name. She was not Scandavian; she was Russian. I don't know much Russian at all, but you know how much I love history. I know what Romanov looks like in Russian, and it is all over that book. Arizona, I think our grandmother was a Romanov. If you're reading this, then I'm probably dead, which means I'm probably right._

_Knowledge may be the only thing that saves you from my fate._

_Love,_

_Timothy_

"Holy shit," Arizona exhaled. "Did you read this?"

"Yeah. I suppose it explains a lot."

"What exactly does this mean?" the blonde wondered aloud. "My grandmother was a Romanov?"

Callie turned the page, her eyes landing on the Russian scrawl that filled the pages. The Latina furrowed her brow as she fingered the pages, gently flipping through the Russian. Her Russian wasn't perfect, but it was good enough to realize what this deceased woman had written in her first words. "Oh my God, Arizona."

"What?" the blonde asked, perplexed by the tone in Callie's voice.

"You're grandmother wasn't just _a _Romanov, she was _the _Romanov."

Arizona scooted out of her side of the booth, rushing around to the brunette's side. Her palms were sweaty, and her body was going haywire. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She didn't quite understand why she was so hyped up, but this moment, whatever it was, felt monumental. "What do you mean?"

"Меня зовут не Кари Кристиансен. Это Анастасия Николаевна Романова," Callie read aloud from the book, her voice drifting through the Russian with relative ease.

"I don't speak Russian," Arizona dead panned.

"It says. My name is not Kari Christiansen. It is Anastasia Nicholayevna Romanov," the Latina translated, a look of wonder on her face. She couldn't believe this was happening; it was too ridiculous and farfetched. It couldn't be real.

"Anastasia? As in the…"

"Daughter of the last tsar of Russia, Nicholas II."

Arizona shook her head in disbelief. "That's impossible. They found the remains a few years ago. I remember seeing it on the news. All of the Romanovs died."

Callie shrugged. If she'd learned anything in her career it was that people loved to lie when it benefit them, especially governments. "Maybe," she said cryptically, "but maybe not."

"So if this is correct, then I'm a descendant of the Romanovs," the blonde said, bewildered by the statement. It didn't feel like it was coming out of her mouth. Someone else should be saying those words, not a military brat who grew up to be a journalist. Those words belonged to someone relaxing on their estate in the European countryside. "How is that possible?"

"Arizona, if this is true, you're not just a descendant of the Romanovs. You would be the lone surviving descendant of the Russian royal crown. The most legitimate pretender to the throne," Callie corrected in a low voice.

"And thus the largest threat to the Russian government," Arizona finished the Latina's train of thought. "Holy shit."

"Yeah," Callie agreed, "We know why they're shooting at you."

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading!<p> 


	6. Goodbye

To those of you kind enough to read my fiction,

It is with a heavy heart that I have decided to leave . This place has been my home for close to two years, but as many of you know it has become less than friendly over the past year or so. From people flaming fics to the now very apparent purge that seems to have leaked into our fandom, I feel that I can no longer post here. My move is one that has been long coming, and I will be moving every single story of mine to the Calzona LJ community (half are already there). I realize that this is a terrible inconvenience to many of you, and for that I deeply apologize. I will not remove my fics from this site…but they will no longer be updated. Though I am not particularly known for "smut" writing, I just cannot continue to post here amidst the drama, controversy, and at times hate. If you have not done so, please feel free to copy my stories for your own enjoyment. For those of you that cannot easily access LJ (country reasons maybe), or for whom that format is not particularly enjoyable, please email me at g,m,a,i, . I will be keeping a list and am more than willing to email out chapters as they are written.

I want to thank all of you so much for taking time out of your days to read my silly stories. You are all amazing and have given me more than I could ask. I hope you will continue to read my stories at LJ. I will maintain my account and will answer PMs, emails, and any questions you leave in review format. If ever goes back to the way it was two years ago, then I will consider coming back, but right now, this seems to be the best option. I am not naïve enough to think that this is some grandiose gesture of resistance; it is simply the best choice for me right now. I am not arrogant to think it is anything more than that.

Keep smilin'

All my best,

~KB~


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